Cold Heart - 1. Cold Heart

My heart died.

I used to fear that it would. Then again, what was I before? Nothing but a weakling. Perhaps something less-than-human craving for the love and attention of others.

Especially that of a partner. "Josh the Loner" was eternally craving for intimacy.

As such, I haunted any online romance site I could find, posted something more than I ever was on my profile, a facade of insecurity, and jetted off to meet as much people as possible. But because of my less-than-average countenance, unkempt black hair and thick eyeglasses, I was usually met with disappointment. Either outright rudeness or the other party simply won't appear at the appointed time and place. I was in college then.

You can probably understand how I felt.

To complicate things further, another event chimed in. Our high school class organized a reunion one summer. Not that big a deal? It's not. Unless you know the fact that we were from a boys-exclusive high school.

Now you understand.

I probably had, what, around five crushes in our class alone, not counting those from other years. Then again, who's counting? This reunion is for our class only.

The place in question is the house of one of our classmates, Andrew. Something short of a mansion, I'd say. The house is overlooking a home-size pool, with benches around it, surrounded by a garden, and a wall on the East side. We're all supposed to meet there at seven in the evening.

My main obsession during my whole stay in school was our then school Governor, Meeks. I was hoping he'd show up. He didn't. Neither did any of my other crushes.

But I had one surprise.

I was just hanging out near the pool, watching others swim or chat, when I saw him approach.

Tommy. Our class Valedictorian. I call him a genius. I always thought highly of him in high school. Perhaps too highly, that I felt awkward hanging out with him, since he usually hangs out with other geniuses from our class. And I was, what, uniquely average? Back then he had a boyish face, and a somewhat delicate, almost feminine, demeanor. Although I looked up to him, I never considered him as a love interest.

That was high school. It seems he grew up a bit in college. His face no longer the rounded, boyish face, his shoulders broadened, and his voice more masculine. Although he's still an inch shorter than I am, since I was at five feet eight, and he still has the same hairstyle on his short, smooth, jet-black hair, which is kinda cute by the way.

"Hey Josh," he greeted, and then paused about three feet from me with a quizzical look. "Is anything wrong?"

I realized then my mouth was hanging open. I closed it immediately.

"Um... nothing," I answered, feeling my cheeks burn. Thankfully, there was minimal light in the area. "So, how have you been?"

"Oh, same as usual," he replied casually. "You?"

"Good, good..."

"Hey, Tom!"

The other class geniuses just arrived.

"Hey!" he said, waving at them. Then to me to he said, "Well, it's nice to see you again Josh."

He went to join his friends. I probably just stood there for a good few minutes before I realized I was spacing out.

He's gorgeous. He's just so damn gorgeous.

I didn't expect such a development. I was distracted the whole night, to say the least, always looking in Tom's direction. I watched, jealous, while he played some sort of game in the pool with pals, Ken and Elias. I don't know how to begin, or how to approach them. Granted they are not snobbish in any sense, but I just feel out of place. I usually do.

I just watch them laugh and joke around from a distance.

Happiness. Such happiness and contentment. Very unlike me. Should I even hope for his love?

I think it was around midnight when we started going to bed. Well, not quite. The place was supposed to house only its family members and some helpers, not some forty or so teenagers. Some live nearby so they went home, but there are still quite a number of us left. Some shared Andrew's room, which includes a wide, soft bed, and the rest, I suppose, slept on the floor. "I suppose," because I didn't sleep in the same room.

Some slept in other places, like the veranda overlooking the pool. It's not a wide area, and there are few sofas that will serve well as small beds, assuming you can sleep on one.

There was a sliding door to the veranda, and it was slightly open, so I just checked first who were in the area. I found Tommy and his friends inside, talking lightly.

Ideas ran through my mind. I could butt in and join them, giving the primitive but honest excuse that I have no other place to sleep. The others are already pretty crowded in Andrew's room, and I always prefer less people around when sleeping. Or I could sleep on the cold, wooden floor. Which isn't so bad since I can get used to it.

I hovered outside the door for several minutes, weighing my options, fighting my own fantasies, arguing and counter-arguing advantages and disadvantages.

I ended up on the floor.

I was awakened by the noise of footsteps and some people talking nearby.

"Hey, is that Bryan?"

"I guess so. Should we wake him up?"

I opened my eyes and looked up. It's still dark, but I saw four people looming over me.

"Oh, it's Josh!"

"Josh, what are you doing, sleeping on the floor?" That was Tom. That was the second time within eight hours that he made me blush.

"Um, well, I didn't find any space, so I just..." I told them, shrugging my shoulders.

"We still had a few empty seats in the veranda," Tom scolded me. "You could have joined us."

"Well, yeah..." I answered, still embarrassed. "What time is it?" I asked while standing up. My neck and limbs hurt from sleeping on cold, hard floor.

Ken checked his watch. "Almost five thirty in the morning. Some of us are heading home now. Are you coming?"

I checked my body to make sure there were no bruises. "Yeah, I guess so."

It didn't rain, but the air is almost freezing. And it was supposed to be summer. I packed up what few things I brought with me, some change of clothing, water bottle, toothbrush, soap and shampoo.

I met up with them outside the mansion. Or house. The rest of them are headed up North, and I'm the only one heading south. But before we can get to the main road, we either have to ride a tricycle, or walk for about ten to fifteen minutes.

We preferred walking.

There we were, five of us, Tommy, Ken, Elias, Alex... and me. The odd one in the group. The others chatted happily about college, about high school, and whatever else that I wasn't able to catch while I absent-mindedly walked on.

"So. What are you up to lately Josh?"

I roused from my daze. "Huh?"

Tom smiled at me. "I said, 'what are you up to lately.'"

"Um... nothing much. School."

"Even in summer?" Tom replied, giving a pretense of shock.

"Oh, no. Not in summer."

"So what are you up to this summer?"

"I... I haven't really thought about it," I replied.

Tom nodded. "I see. Well, we're hanging out at the Paaned festival next week. You're free to join us, if you want."

How could I refuse?

Panaad is an annual festival held around, not surprisingly, the Panaad stadium. It's an annual, weeklong festival that showcases the specialty foods and goods of each city in the province of Negros Occidental. Naturally, there are many tourists that came along.

One complaint I have of the place is that it's hot, even though it's surrounded by a lot of trees. And when it rains, it gets muddy. With the amount of people during the festival, there's not enough cover for everyone.

The others resolved one problem by going there during the night, when it would be cooler. We're just going to hope it doesn't rain; otherwise it's going to get a lot worse.

The crowd was incredible. There's nothing but a sea of people at the entrance that I almost gave up any hope of getting in. But the others persevered.

Somehow, we were able to go through, or go with, the crowd, until we were in a fairly open area with breathing space.

We started looking around for food stands. Tommy's aunt runs a chicken inasal (or barbeque) business and was able to get a food stall in the festival. Unfortunately, food stands are scattered everywhere around the stadium so it took us quite a while to find it, navigating around flower and miscellaneous shops, and everything else. We ended up following the smell of smoke and the sweet scent burnt oil.

We arrived a little after seven in the evening, we found the stand a few minutes before eight, and we're ravenous. Or at least I was.

After dinner, we went around, but this time just looking around at stuff and nothing in particular. We just enjoyed each other’s company. In my case, I enjoyed Tom's company the most.

However, due to certain circumstances, I was also protective of him. The festival is notorious for slashers. It's a good thing if they only slashed your jeans, bags or pockets for valuables. The worst thing is they might cut your skin, just for the sick fun of it.

Those are just rumors though. I don't remember seeing anything like that on the news.

Just the same, I was being protective of Tommy. On our way out, as we move through the crowd, pinning us all around, I situated myself behind him. I had my arms on his shoulder, with my eyes scanning the people nearby for a potential sicko.

It was around midnight when we reached Tommy's house. Everyone else lives in a different town so we opted for a sleepover at Tommy's place. There was only one double-deck bed, but it was wide enough. It will fit the seven of us who were present, although we lie down side by side like sardines in a can. And then there's always the cold, hard floor. Or the sofa in the living room.

I was hoping to sleep beside Tommy that night. I should have known that it was too much to hope for. I was the odd one in the group. They've all known each other throughout high school, gone through Citizen's Army Training together, and maintained contact after high school.

Like I said odd one out.

Nevertheless, after that, I was somehow able to keep in touch with Tommy. At least while he was in a nearby town. Once school starts, it's going to be harder to contact him. I was on the phone almost every night, just talking to him about everything.

On his last night before heading back to school in the big city, he asked me on the phone...

"Josh... Are you trying to... court... me?"

I was dumbstruck. I couldn't speak. I'm not sure how long I stayed silent on the line, nor do I remember what I had been thinking at the time. The next thing I heard was Tommy's concerned voice.

"Hey, Josh? Are you alright? Are you still there?"

"Um... yeah," I answered, worry bordering into hysteria.

"Oh. I thought you hung up on me. Well, are you courting me or not?"

"Um, well... yeah. I guess so..."

More silence on the phone.

"Um..." I broke the silence this time. "So... are we..."

I heard him laugh lightly on the other line. Not a cruel laugh. Merely amused. God, I love hearing his laughter.

Finally, I heard him sigh. "Josh... I'm flattered. Really. But... I can't be your boyfriend. I'm not... like you."

I'm not sure whether to laugh, cry, or run throughout the house screaming.

"But we can still be friends," he offered.

I smiled. "Thanks Tom."

"It's getting late, so I have to go now. You know, sleep."

"Ok."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry. I'll survive."

More or less.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I'm not sure who said that line, but it seems to have become a truth for me some time after my parting words with Tom. That was when my heart died.

But I lived on.

However, I became a different person. At first, I thought it was simply because I changed my appearance. From an unruly, black hair to a cleanly gelled one, replacing my thick eyeglasses with black-colored contacts, and investing in the latest fad and fashionable clothes. But soon, I realized that I became more... aggressive... in my approach to people.

I also had my first time shortly after then, but I can't talk about it. Do not misunderstand, it's not because it was traumatic or too special to talk about. I simply don't remember it, except vaguely. For me, it was just one night among many spent with a warm body, mostly on a bed.

Is that strange? A lot of people talk about their first time, how it felt, who it was with, what they did before, during and after sex. People made a big deal out of it.

Then again, I assume that their heart was still alive.

When I enter any bar or club, heads literally turn and you can feel as if the music stopped, even though it's just the busy chatter of people that stopped. What people think of me then I will never know, but it doesn't really matter. I've been worried too much of what people think of me before. I don't want any of that anymore. I just want to think of me.

Selfish? Yes, maybe. But aren't we all? Those people thinking I'm too much of a playboy, don't you think they're being selfish for hating me because they know they don't have a chance with me? Or that I already took the apple of their eye that they were hoping to keep for themselves? That I enjoyed life more than they do?

So yes, we're all selfish. I'm just a lot more honest to myself.

Eventually, I finished college.

In a small town, there are really not too many opportunities for fresh graduates. Fortunately, I got an offer almost right away in a distant city.

It's my night off, and I decided to visit my favorite club. It was a gloomy night, not just because I'm getting bored of my affairs, but because of the dark clouds that hovered low over the city since late afternoon.

I was halfway through my drink when I noticed a couple of guys coming in through the door. Because of the light, it wasn't clear at first, but somehow I sensed who it was, but couldn't believe it at first.

Tommy.

There's another guy with him. A stranger. Tommy looked unsure, and the other guy seems to be leading, and took an inconspicuous table near the wall, away from the lights.

So, he's exploring a forbidden part of his sexuality. Probably just came to terms with it recently. If there's anyone who should guide him through this path, it should be me.

I asked a waiter to send him a drink, plus a note: "Won't you join me for a drink or two?" and wrote my name.

I watched him from a distance as he read the note and looked in my direction, helpfully pointed out by the waiter. I smiled and raised my drink to him. He smiled, kind of embarrassed, stood up and approached me, leaving the other guy confused. Poor guy, but I know how his mind works. I've been there myself, after all.

When he was seated, I whispered to him, "You should have called me if you're doing something like this, you know. Honestly, I don't trust that guy."

"So you're saying I should trust you?" he asked.

"Don't you?"

Tom seems to be thinking about it before giving his answer. "Yes, I think I do."

I checked my feelings. Do I still feel something for him? Is my heart still beating endlessly in his presence? Do I blush at every word he says?

No, I guess not.

I smiled at him. "No heavy drinks tonight, okay?"

"Wouldn't think of it," he agreed.

We conversed the entire night. I told him what I have been doing, my "explorations," so to speak, but he seems uneasy hearing such topics, and so I dropped it and provided other topics.

Close to midnight, I offered him a ride home. Just then, the other guy appeared.

"So, did you enjoy your evening Tom?"

"Oh, Mike. Sorry I left you like that. Yes, I did. Thanks for accompanying me," Tom answered the guy.

It was so easy to read him. Mike might as well be screaming his thoughts.

"Hey Mike, thanks for getting Tom here tonight. I wouldn't have met such a great guy otherwise," I told him, grinning maliciously.

"Josh, what -” Tom started to say, but I discreetly winked at him.

Mike grew red with frustration, and then faced Tom.

"Tom, I have to be honest with you. You can't trust this guy. He's a notorious one-night-stand guy," he said, almost pleading. Pathetic. He wants Tom badly. Too bad for him.

"Now, now Mike, don't get smart with me. You know we both want the same thing from Tom," I sneered at him. "It's just that he'd rather do it with me."

Mike turned pale. He'd never bother Tom again after being busted like that.

Satisfied with my handiwork, I turned to face Tom and, offering my hand, I said, "Shall we go?"

Tom looked at me disapprovingly, but he took my hand and we left Mike behind. I heard Tom apologize to him when he passed by Mike.

Once inside the car, I told him, "There was no need to apologize to him, you know. Everything I said about him is true."

"You don't have to be that rude," Tom said scowling at me. Then he asked, "How about everything you said about yourself?"

"Which ones?" I asked, avoiding answering directly.

"You know which ones," he retorted. "'We both want the same thing from Tom'. If you're saying I should avoid Mike because of that, then you're also saying I should avoid you."

I grinned at him. "You can, if you want to. And..." I trailed off; my mind running faster than my tongue can keep up. I looked ahead and started the car. "And... I also think that you should."

Tom was mostly silent during the ride. I guess he didn't expect I wouldn't want him around, and, least of all, to tell him so. The only noise came from the rain that started halfway during the ride, and the occasional car that passes ours.

When I dropped him off in front of the apartment he's staying in, he just looked at me from outside my window, getting drenched.

"But... we're still friends right?" he asked.

I gave him a sad smile. "Yes, we're friends. That's exactly why you need to... avoid me. Now you have to get in or you'll catch a cold."

I started to turn the key on the car but he put his hand on mine that was still on the wheel. Then he looked at me and said, "It's really late, and you've already taken a lot of alcohol... and this rain... maybe it’s better you stay for the night..."

Am I really hearing this? I, among all people, know exactly what Tommy's trying to say but too shy to say aloud.

"I'll be alright," I assured him.

But he didn't let go of my hand. "Please? I don't want you get an accident because you took the trouble of bringing me home."

I know enough that it's going to stay like this until dawn otherwise, so I gave in. Once inside, I watched him prepare warm water to drink before sleep and went to his room; I suppose to take a bath. I slowly drank the warm water in the kitchen while he's preparing bed, and maybe adding extra pillows for me on the couch. Or maybe not...

After a short while, he called me to his room. I only see one bed, some chairs, books and a computer.

"I could use a pillow if I'm to sleep on the chair," I told him.

He just looked at me, unsure. "Um, you're not sleeping on a chair..."

"Well, a pillow's still helpful on the floor-"

"That's not it!" he shouted, suddenly cutting me off. He surprised even himself for shouting. "Sorry..."

"No, it’s okay," I assured him. "I'm the one who should apologize."

I took a deep breath and went on. "I know what you're trying to do. I was giving you a way out..." I told him, looking at the floor as I did so.

Tommy stood right in front of me.

"Why would you do that?" he asked me, his voice cracking a bit.

I looked at him. He's still shorter than I am, roughly the same height as before.

"You know how I am," I answered. "You've been warned by that guy. I told you all about me, but you avoided the topic. Tommy... I'll probably just go to bed with you tonight and then forget all about it, like I usually do."

"That's okay... “His voice almost a whisper. He's on the verge of crying. Then he put his head on my shoulder and his arms around my waist. "If I have to do it with just one person in my lifetime... like you said, I'd rather do it with you."

We were both silent after that.

"Please?"

I took another deep breath. "This is going to be your first time, right?"

"Uh-huh," he answered, his face still buried on my shoulder.

I sighed. "I won't do anything dramatic. But... I don't like being attached to any single person for a long time, so don't complain, and don't demand anything from me."

With that, he stood up straight and, with his left hand, pulled me closer to his face and kissed me on the lips. I can easily tell that he's inexperienced when it comes to kissing another person. Maybe it's his first time kissing anyone. The thought excites me all the more.

I caressed his face, and was surprised to find it rough. He used to give me the impression that his boyish face would be smooth. Then again, he has grown, and things change. The most amazing change so far is that he's here, in front of me, in my arms, his lips on mine.

I felt the now-familiar tightness in my pants. And the weird thing was, I am almost ashamed of it, because Tom's here.

I broke away to say "Tom... are you sure -"

But then he shut me up when he kissed me again on my lips.

The only light in the dark room are the ones that came from the occasional lightning from outside the window. The storm was raged outside, turning the room cold. We were locked in a passionate embrace while we made love, defying the cold of the rain and the night. I savored each moment like never before. Was this how my first time should have felt?

The experience lingered in my mind long after we broke contact and silence filled the room as we lie down on the bed.

After a short while, Tommy curled up next to me, his head on my chest, but facing away from me.

"Please... stay," he pleaded.

I sighed. "What did I say to you earlier?"

"'Don't complain' and 'don't demand,'" he quoted. "But I'm not demanding... I'm asking..."

"It's a thin line between pleading and demanding," I answered.

He has nothing to say to that, so he was silent for some time. I certainly had nothing to add. This is one of the most awkward situations in my life. Certainly, it is something I feared would happen once I lost my feeling, my emotion, and my faith in so-called 'love.' I had feared that I will one day hurt him when our situations are reversed, and so it had. And so I did.

We lay there, side-by-side yet distant, silent, mulling over our own thoughts. Drowning in each of our sorrows alone, yet so close.

When I can no longer take the silence, I broke the silence. "Okay. Okay... I'll stay."

Then he raised his head and looked at me, joy overflowing from his eyes. Then he put his arms around my neck and laid his head again on my bare chest. I love the scent that rose from his hair. I had always loved him. Maybe it was my damaged pride that resisted intimacy for so long. All my disappointments and failures, turning me cold.

I put my arms around his naked body, and hugged him close, feeling and loving his warmth.

And my heart started beating again...